


A Place to call Home

by Ysmirel



Series: The air outside the cage (tastes sweeter) [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen, Link belongs to the Lost Woods don't @ me, Link is from Lurelin in this AU, Lurelink, So yeah, We stan dark skinned Link, Zelda is badass because I say so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26669476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysmirel/pseuds/Ysmirel
Summary: "For all that he looked up to the man, Link had never met his father.He had heard about him, yes, from the memories his mother shared with him sometimes, speaking fondly, softly, over campfire.Link's mother was a stocky woman, stout and rather short. She wasn't like the Hylians of the north, fair and wispy, but rather had the build of the people of Lurelin, all curves and no angles. She had grown as the daughter of a fisherman, and learnt the trade, which gave her a wide back and sun-kissed streaks over dark brown hair. She wasn't a soft mother, although despite her stern countenance and her no-nonsense attitude, she didn't lack any kindness.As Link's nana had told him, she had gone to travel the lands when she had come of age, and brought back a twig of a man – nana's words, although she was admittedly biased, married as she was now to a Gerudo woman – trailing behind that would, in time, become Link's father."
Relationships: Link & Zelda, Link & the cutest little korok
Series: The air outside the cage (tastes sweeter) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1255589
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	A Place to call Home

**Author's Note:**

> Mom said it's Link's turn on the existential crisis

For all that he looked up to the man, Link had never met his father.

He had heard about him, yes, from the memories his mother shared with him sometimes, speaking fondly, softly, over campfire.

Link's mother was a stocky woman, stout and rather short. She wasn't like the Hylians of the north, fair and wispy, but rather had the build of the people of Lurelin, all curves and no angles. She had grown as the daughter of a fisherman, and learnt the trade, which gave her a wide back and sun-kissed streaks over dark brown hair. She wasn't a soft mother, although despite her stern countenance and her no-nonsense attitude, she didn't lack any kindness.

As Link's nana had told him, she had gone to travel the lands when she had come of age, and brought back a twig of a man – nana's words, although she was admittedly biased, married as she was now to a Gerudo woman – trailing behind that would, in time, become Link's father.

Link liked to hear all the stories his mother had to share about her travels, but the ones in which her parents traveled together were his favourite. He, too, had travelled with them, when he was just a toddler. He would never forget Zora domain, with its beautiful architecture and the kind smile of their princess, or the times they went to the Akkala fortress, where Link's father had been a knight before retiring. Then the roads had started getting more and more dangerous, and well- Link didn't like to think about that.

The thing is; Link's father had died on one such journey, and then they had stopped going anywhere. They had returned to their home in Lurelin Village and hadn't left the region ever since. And even then, his mother didn't like getting too far from the village. The only time it was allowed, was once a year, when they went to the Courage Steppe, and even then, that didn't stray too far from their comfort zone. The biggest difficulty getting there was a slope – very inclined, mind you – that led to the top of the mountains surrounding the village, and from then on it was a matter of walking and enjoying the scenery.

There were two statues at the Courage Steppe, identical to other ones Link had seen strewn across Hyrule when he still traveled with his parents. They were on a small island in the middle of a lake, and behind them, Link and his mother had planted a tiny tree, barely a sapling then, that they had brought from Akkala when they had attended the funeral. As a former knight of Akkala, his father's body was to be buried in a patch of land not too far from the fortress, where his fallen companions rested as well. They could not visit his grave, so far away, and so the tree had to be a stand-in gravestone. It was way prettier, Link had thought, better than the white slab of cold and impersonal stone that stood over his father's body. Pale as his father's face had been when he had fallen.

The bark of the tree, link thought, was a much lovelier colour. It was almost the same shade of brown as his mother's skin, the same dark colour Link had inherited and that his father had always complimented, all while whining about getting sunburnt too easily. It drew a connection, if small, to them, and that was something that meant more than any grandiose words carved over the dead limestone.

A few years had passed since they had planted it, and the tree stood tall behind the statues, lending them shade as its leaves rustled in the wind. They would rest under it, and eat before making the trek back to the village while his mother shared her stories with Link.

They would usually leave an apple to each statue before the journey back – Link had wondered why it had to be apples, and his mother had shrugged and said that the spirits liked them better. She had always told Link that they were protectors, that they would lend their aid to travelers in need or danger. It was a rather common belief, in Lurelin, where the worship to Hylia wasn't as prominent. They did believe in the Goddesses, of course, and paid them due respect, but unlike the Hylians in the northern regions, their main protector was Farore. Thus, if they needed help, it was common to ask her children, the spirits of the forest.

That is not to say that there wasn't a statue of Hylia in their village, all settlements under the rule of the Hylian kingdom had one by royal decree, but theirs was a half-forgotten thing, almost hidden in a nook of the village, staring out into the waves as sand accumulated around it.

In contrast, the statues of the forest spirits never lacked any offerings, wherein the rest of Hyrule mostly tried to avoid them. Northern Hylians, as Link would learn later, feared the little spirits, believing them to be mischievous and some even going so far as to labelling them evil. Nobody tended to these statues outside of Lurelin, and as time passed, it became harder and harder to distinguish them from the background they stood against, so covered in vines and moss as they were.

Link, now, had camped beside one such statue.

It hadn't been long since his exile, barely a few weeks, but he was already feeling weary, and the familiarity of it provided a small comfort. He had cleaned it as best as he could, leaving an apple as an offering. It had been nostalgia, and not hope for the help of the Farore in his endeavor, that made him do it. His belief in the Goddesses had been dwindling ever since he became Princess Zelda's knight, and he had watched as her efforts kept going unnoticed. Either there were no gods to listen to her praying, or they were cruel enough to ignore her pleas for help. Link wasn't sure which was worst.

It was understandable, then, his surprise when he woke up in the middle of the night to find a small creature hovering over him. Though his first instinct might have been to fight, something in its demeanor made him wait, laying as still as possible so as to not alarm it. The being seemed to observe him with curiosity, silently, he had thought, until he heard the sound like windpipes and seeds rattling in something hollow. It was both familiar and unnerving, and Link's body couldn't seem to decide between relaxing and fleeing. Even more strange, he found, was that he could understand its chittering sounds.

Finally, the creature noticed he had woken up.

“Oh! You're up! You're up!” it cried, excited, and leaned to the side as if to see Link from a different angle.

Its body was made of soft bark, like that of a beech tree, and its twig-like arms and stubby legs made the most eerie sounds when moving, like trees creaking in a strong wind. Soft clicks and creaks accompanied its every movement, only loud enough to be heard if Link paid attention, but impossible to ignore once he knew they were there. Its face, crudely drawn over a leaf-like mask, didn't betray any emotion.

“Hello! Hello!” It had a voice high pitched as a child, and that, combined with its cheery attitude, prevented Link from finding it too threatening.

Deciding that he was in no immediate danger, Link sat up. 'Hello,' he signed, hoping that the little being would understand him. It would be very rude not to answer, but he found that his throat had closed up after the incident, and if before he had spoken little, now he couldn't speak at all. Not that he had many people to speak with, anyways.

If it could understand him, it gave no sign of it. “You are lost!” it spoke again. It was a rather odd thing to say with such cheer. Besides, Link wasn't lost, he knew exactly where he was, which he tried to convey to the strange creature.

“Oh, but you _are_ lost! The Great Deku Tree said once that found things had a place to belong to, and you don't _have_ one of those! So, you see, you must be lost!”

That was, Link thought, a very interesting take on things. Put like that, he guessed he was technically lost. He'd had a place he belonged to, before he had been drafted into the royal knights, like many others his age, when the King had started to take precautions against the return of the Evil King. Then again, he had always felt like Lurelin wasn't at all where he should be either, so he guessed that he had never belonged anywhere. He didn't think this would matter to forest spirits – because that was what the little being must have been – however, so he settled for a helpless shrug.

“Oh, but don't be sad! _I_ found you!” Yet again, Link couldn't exactly argue with that. Unaware of his silent amusement, the spirit forest continued speaking. “And because you were so kind and gave me a present, you can come home with me! Lost things belong in the Lost Woods!”

This gave Link pause. As charming as the small sapling-like creature was, he doubted that following it anywhere would be a good choice. As helpful as forest spirits could be, there were also countless stories of travelers lost in their woods, never to be seen again. Others wandered out of the tree-line, as young as the day they had left, only to find their loved ones old and wrinkled. Link couldn't afford that to happen to him; he had failed to protect the princess, and now he had to correct his mistake and find her, he had no time to spare.

He knew that this mission the King had given him was destined to fail. He had only wanted a scapegoat to take the blame. The people of Hyrule needed a culprit, someone or something to point their fingers at and direct their anger, frustration and hopelessness. Nobody had managed to find out what had happened to the missing princess, though, and so there was no one.

No one except Link, who hadn't been there to protect her when whatever it was took her away.

The shift had been progressive, over a couple of weeks, but finally the King had exiled him and forbidden him from returning without Princess Zelda. Now, Link wasn't a fool, he knew that the King thought this to be an impossible task, and that Link had just been set up as a distraction from the more pressing danger of the Calamity. Nonetheless, something in Link's gut told him that the princess was still in Hyrule, and Link still felt bound to at least seek her out. If she was still out there, if she needed help, Link would be there to provide it.

The spirit, oblivious to Link's thoughts, continued talking. “I think I'll call you Wendan, because you are a wanderer! Yes, Wendan of the Lost Woods! It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?”

Link pursed his lips and signed yet again, he already had a name.

“But that name doesn't fit you yet. No, no. You need a name that fits you. Oh, I know! You can use Wendan for now, and when you're Link again, you'll use that name!”

Link frowned, confused. He had never stopped being Link, and his name fit him quite well, he thought. Though, was he the same Link as he had been before? Who even was Link? A fisherman from Lurelin? A champion? A fallen knight? A vagrant, now, he thought. Maybe he had never been the Hero chosen by the sword, maybe it had been a mistake. Which, he thought bitterly, had become apparent when he had lost the ability to draw it from its hilt.

He hadn't told anyone, not even the king himself. Not two days after the princess had been lost, he had tried to unsheathe it, and found that he couldn't. The sword had rejected him. Which made sense, if he thought about it. After all, what kind of chosen hero managed to lose a whole princess? His only job as a champion was to protect her, and he had failed miserably. It was as if she had vanished.

His speech had only gotten worse after that. Even if the silence had been his choice at first, it had become almost impossible for him to articulate any words. Link had been an outgoing person, back in Lurelin, always smiling, always ready to share a kind word or a joke with those who knew him. That was the person the sword had chosen, and it made sense that, because he wasn't that person anymore, because he was Link, but he _wasn't_ , the Master Sword wouldn't accept this watered down version. This closed off shell that wouldn't even make a sound.

Perhaps the forest spirit was right, perhaps he wasn't Link anymore, after all.

But if he wasn't who he used to be, and therefore wasn't Link... who was he?

* * *

He hadn't meant to go to the Lost Woods. He hadn't. In fact, he hadn't so much walked there as he had vaguely drifted in its general direction, like the wind was subtly guiding his steps.

It sounded like chimes, reminding him of the way the small spirit had spoken. The being had left not long after their conversation, giving Link – unneeded – directions to the forest, and he hadn't seen it ever since. During his travel Link had, more than once, seen movement out of the corner of his eye, or heard the soft creaking of branches, but when he turned to search for the source, he never found anything. It was the wind, he always told himself. Just the wind.

He didn't know how, but in his search for the princess, he had gotten closer and closer to the Lost Woods, even though he had been choosing the paths that led away from the – supposedly – accursed place. It was as if his feet were walking there against his will, or as if the roads twisted to lead there on their own volition. In the end, he had accepted his fate. If him having met one of Farore's children had been the will of the Goddess, and it was her will that pushed him to the woods, who was he to reject it? He had been accompanying the princess for almost a year, hoping desperately for a signal, and finally he had gotten one.

And if he got lost amongst the trees and never came back, well, he wasn't the Chosen Hero anymore, was he? He was no one.

He was lost, and lost things belonged to the Lost Woods.

As he walked deeper and deeper into the woods, the mist grew stronger, and the light dimmer. He could barely see three steps in front of him, and the only sound that broke the eerie atmosphere was that of windpipes and the trees swaying to the wind. He wandered without aim at first, then he felt something like recognition spark within him. It was dream-like, as if he had just woken up and could only barely remember traces of what he had dreamed of. The trees he found, every small stone and turn of the path, they felt familiar. He felt something stir in his memories, but he couldn't quite put a name to it. Confused, he decided to let the feeling guide him, and his body moved with the practiced steps of someone who had walked these steps many times before. Soon, he found himself leaving the mist behind, surprised at what he found.

There, in the middle of the forest, was a town. Not in the traditional sense, mind you. There were no buildings he could see, no shops nor houses, but the sheer number of forest spirits that congregated here told him that this was where they lived. In the center of it all, presiding over the rest of the trees around it, was an enormous tree. This must be the Great Deku Tree the leafling had spoken about before, he thought, and something within him told him this was true. Its thick canopy covered the little clearing-like space like a ceiling, and one of its massive roots had been carved to lead into a hole in the trunk.

Link was unsure of his welcome. The small spirits had started to notice him, and they seemed torn between approaching him and satiating their curiosity, or hiding away in fear. Finally, a cheery voice made the decision for them.

“You came home!”

Link recognized the small forest spirit he had met before, running towards him on its stubby little legs. 'Hello,' he signed, and waited for the spirit to reach him.

“Welcome, welcome!” The little thing crashed into Link's legs, hugging them with its twig-like arms just like a small child would. Link leaned down and patted it on the back, not knowing if a pat in the head – what with its leaf mask – would be appreciated.

The spirit then dragged him, tugging at his clothing with insistence, until he was in front of the Great Deku Tree, who looked down at him with solemnity. After a few moments of silence, it's bark broke into a kind smile. “Welcome,” his deep voice said, and it felt like coming home.

* * *

The change had been subtle, but he noticed it nonetheless. The Sheikah had started to actively aid him, not directly, but it wasn't unusual for Link to find blankets, provisions or even weapons tucked away in the places he frequented for camping when he was on the road. After being reviled by most of the people he passed by, their kindness felt like warm wind on his back, helping him sail into the waves, sea-salt and foam splashing his forearms, his face. He had always liked the freedom of the sea, back in Lurelin.

The people of Hyrule had started to forget their failure of a Hylian champion, and now few people could recognize him. Maybe it was his time on the road, the hardships that had marred his skin and even his whole being, maybe he had grown more out of his baby fat and his face didn't look as youthful, or maybe it was the fact that he had stopped using Link's name a while ago.

Wendan wasn't his name, the Great Deku Tree had said, but he could borrow it until he felt comfortable wearing his own again.

Wendan the wanderer did have a nice ring to it, and he had started to introduce himself as such. That was how the people in the small villages he crossed – when he had no other option – knew him, and as long as he didn't get close to the city, or any bigger settlements, nobody could ever see the knight he had been under his tired eyes, or under the three pale scars that marred his face, courtesy of an encounter with a Lynel.

He avoided looking at it nowadays, his face. It looked unfamiliar, and the green of the forest had started to take over the blue of his eyes, no doubt as a result of the time spent in the Lost Woods. The korok had made a bed for him with leaves and soft moss, and kept him stocked with sweet berries, rice and mushrooms. He visited quite often, despite his initial reluctance.

The forest felt like home in a way neither Lurelin nor the Castle ever had, like a part of him had always been there and it welcomed the rest of him after a long wait.

Sometimes, in his moments of weakness, he wanted to stay there, and turn his back to Hyrule, like Hyrule had turned its back on him. But that soon came to pass, accompanied by an insatiable need to travel, to find something that was still missing. To find the princess, or the person he was before, or an intangible thing that kept calling out to him like a beacon. So, in the end, Link-now-Wendan always ended up throwing his cape over his shoulders, pulling up his hood, and wandering in search of what he was missing. Over and over again.

Link would have traveled the roads atop his horse, exchanging stories and information over a crackling fire with other travelers he found on the way. Wendan the wanderer moved silently by foot and let the wind guide his steps, over mountains, across rivers, to the edge of the Hebra mountains and past the last signs of civilization of the Gerudo dessert. He found many things, learned secrets that the land had kept hidden before but now laid bare before his eyes. Hyrule unfurled ahead of him like a blossoming flower, and Link-that-was-now-Wendan took to its hidden paths like they had been carved just for him.

Then, almost a year later, when he had already forgotten who Link was, he finally found her. Well, it would have been more correct to say that the princess had found him. Zelda had walked into the circle of light cast by the fire, appearing out of the shadows like a ghost. She was almost unrecognizable, wearing a Sheikah armor and her hair so short that she could pass as a young man. There was a bow strapped to her back, as well as a short sword and a pair of daggers. She looked as deadly as any other Sheikah, but somehow he knew it was her deep in his bones. There was something in him, a resonance, that could have recognized the princess anywhere.

'I am glad to see you safe,' he signed by way of greeting, smiling reassuringly. She seemed upset, and he didn't want to scare her away now that he had finally found her.

The princess had taken one look at his smile, and then started crying inconsolably.

* * *

Zelda had changed quite a lot, since she was fifteen and vanished without a trace. Her once dainty demeanor and elegant way of moving, an artificial grace that had been taught to her since she was a child, had given way to an almost prowl, a silent set of footsteps. If she hadn't been walking beside him, where he could see her, he wouldn't have noticed her.

She startled at the smallest sounds, her hand instinctively moving to the short sword strapped to the small of her back, and when they settled aside of the road for the night, the camping fire she made didn't give off any smoke. She hunted and fished and foraged like she had grown up in the wild, and looking at her, one wouldn't have believed that she had once walked the halls of a castle. She seemed stressed, which wasn't something new, but also strong enough to withstand it.

Lastly, it did not escape Link the way she let other travelers treat her as a young man, or how she called herself Sheik instead of Zelda. It was easier to travel the lands as Sheik and Wendan, and he had to admit that it was sort of relieving to know that he wasn't the only one using an alias. Convenience aside, it had felt like he was escaping from himself.

A few awkward questions later, the missing princess – although he supposes he should change that to 'fleeing princess', all things considered – had told him that she didn't mind being referred to as Zelda in private, but that she would be more comfortable if he addressed her as Sheik and used male or neutral pronouns when there were other people around. Link didn't have any problem with that, it made perfect sense.

This new version of Zelda, or rather, Sheik, was also oddly protective, and a very capable fighter. He had found himself, on more than one occasion, enjoying the way she seamlessly molded to his fighting. They moved almost in unison, like a single entity that fought through two different bodies, and Link couldn't even remember what it was like to fight alone, to not know with certainty that there was someone at his back.

“We should find the pilots,” she said one day. They were traveling north, towards Akkala, to visit one of the Sheikah labs.

'The pilots?' he echoed.

The princess nodded after a while of fidgeting with her Sheikah slate. The map in it was littered with small markers, each one a different symbol. “The Sheikah found the Divine Beasts of legend,” she recites, her voice curt. “We need someone to pilot them, if we want to use them in the upcoming battle. I have been monitoring monster activity for a while, and there has been a steady increase in attacks during the past months. If Ganon is going to attack again, I'm sure it will be soon. We don't have much time.”

This new information gives Link pause. He hadn't known anything about the discovery of the Divine Beasts, but then again, he didn't move in the same circles he had before, and common folk and travelers wouldn't have this kind of information. Still, 'Wouldn't the King take care of that?'

Zelda stops her horse, looking at him with wide eyes. “You don't know?” Then, after Link shakes his head, confused, she announces. “After I left, the leaders of the other races withdrew their support. They said that- that without the blood of the Goddess and the spirit of the Hero there to oppose Ganon, that the Sheikah technology was useless, as it had only been made to support them. The borders have been closed off, and the alliances have been annulled. The zora were the first to abandon the alliance, after you were exiled, and the rest followed suit soon afterwards. There haven't been contact between kingdoms in almost a year.”

It feels like a cold spray of water, like falling off the boat during a storm and being met by the unforgiving ocean, like a branch breaking under his weight. How could he not have noticed? True, he hadn't been traveling through the main roads, sticking to the wilderness and never getting close to big settlements. But this? This was big. The five races had stood together for millennia, how were they supposed to win a battle against the Evil King of the legends if they didn't combine their efforts? It was madness.

'We have to find someone to pilot the Divine Beasts,' he agrees, determined. The princess' answer is a firm nod, and the hurried sound of her horse's hoofs over the dry earth.

**Author's Note:**

> Should we name the Korok? They miiight appear further up in the series so... any ideas?


End file.
